Why are Wrong Numbers Never Busy?
by Ende
Summary: Weiss Kreuz x Gundam Wing Fusion/Crossover. I'm pretty sure it's a fusion though. AU. Omi and Quatre centric.


**_Why are Wrong Numbers Never Busy?_**  
  
_Gundam Wing x Weiß Kreuz Fusion _  
  
Pairings: 3x4, Ken x Aya, Youji x Omi, RxD, 2x1, Sx5  
  
Almost meaningless, flirtatious pairings: Youji x all the girls, and then some; Omix4, OmixNagi (these really DON'T mean anything, seriously. You'll see why they're there when the time comes ^__^)  
  
Note: At the moment, I'm not really sure if this is a crossover or a fusion. Bah...It's not really a big deal, though. Basically, all of the characters are just kinda there living in the same place in an AU.  
I think that I'm going to make it so that the older Weiß people are teachers. FYI: Brad, Manx, maybe. The rest'll all be students. Yes, I know that they most of them are over 18. This, however, is an AU; therefore, I can do whatever I want! *smile* Enjoy!   
  
Warnings: shonen ai, violence, angst, AU  
  
  
Omi stuck out his tongue at his the boy sitting on the bed next to him. "No. I'm not going to plan your dates for you."  
  
"Why not, Omi? You're supposed to be my best friend! Don't you care at all?" the other boy pleaded.  
  
Omi glared at his friend. He just had to tell him about the puppy-dog face, didn't he?  
  
"Fine," the other boy grumbled, grabbing the phone. "I'll make the damn call. You owe me though, got it?"  
  
The eager nodding of his friend's head was the response.  
  
Omi grumbled some more, but dialed the number that was scribbled down on a sheet of paper.  
  
Omi was a teenager of about seventeen. He resided in Greenwich Village in New York City, where the rich go to settle. His parents were both lawyers, and they were almost never home. Not that he really cared that much. He liked being able to not have his parents watch his every move.   
  
The only downside to the whole "parents never being home" thing, was when Omi was little. A day hadn't gone by that he hadn't felt lonely and unloved. The servants that worked at the rather large house he lived in hadn't made it better. It wasn't until he turned eight years old, in second grade, when his parents opted to put him in a private school, opposed the home schooling. Apparently they had decided that the fact that their son was miserable every day wasn't a good thing.  
  
So, Omi was put into an expensive, distinguished private school called Meadow Brooks. It was an all-boys school as well. Along with the other little boys he went to school with, he realized that their was a lot more then just the cranky, old servants he had to be around daily.  
  
On his first day of school, Omi met another boy that was a lot like him. Most of the kids at the school came from rich families with workaholic parents, but that's not really what's important. The other boy's name was Quatre Raberba Winner. A blonde, blue-eyed, cutie from the day he was born, Quatre was as outgoing as they come.  
  
When they had gone out for recess on that first day of school, Omi had been a bit shy. After all, he hadn't been around anyone his own age before. He never had to talk to anyone, because he was yelled at at home when he interrupted the servants. He didn't want anyone to get at him, so he sat off to the side on the playground in the grass, wishing that they'd just go back inside. He had actually liked learning the way his second grade teacher taught. Mrs. Louis was so much nicer than his other teachers. He didn't even mind having to sit by someone he didn't know, as long as he didn't have to talk to them. Playing outside with other kids didn't look like much fun, in Omi's opinion.  
  
However, Quatre wasn't going to let that happen. What was the point of letting someone that looked nice enough just sit there when they should be playing, was what the boy had thought? So, he went up to Omi, and practically dragged the other boy out to play tag with everyone else. From that day forward, Quatre had made sure that Omi thought that recess was fun.  
  
Now, here were the two boys, teenagers at last. They were both juniors in high school. Quatre had been obsessing over a certain someone for weeks. No, wait, it was months. Omi had to hear about it every single day. The green eyes that could just make you melt. The light brown hair in the freaky style that made Quatre tingle. And the lips...and the voice...; no need to go into details, right? It almost wanted to make Omi puke at times; however, he couldn't resist the teary, sparkly eyes Quatre was giving him, and was forced to make the call.  
  
Omi sighed at the phone as the sound that it was busy buzzed in his ear.   
  
"I'm sorry, Quat. It's busy."  
  
Quatre frowned. "Well, we can try later. Help me with my math homework, please?"  
  
As the two boys went through the grueling math problems one by one, Quatre insisted that they call every two or three problems. Each time, the phone was busy.  
  
"This isn't fair!" Quatre huffed, throwing himself across the textbooks and notebooks.   
  
"I'll try again, okay?" Omi mumbled reluctantly. He doubted that Trowa's phone was even going to be open, but he would try for the sake of the blonde.  
  
Omi sighed as he dialed the number he basically had memorized. He was surprised when it started to ring. Quatre was literally ecstatic. Quatre had said that this guy- his name was Trowa- would be home now. Finally, just before Omi was about to give up, someone picked up.  
  
"Hello?" an annoyed, gruff voice said through the receiver.  
  
"Hi."  
  
"Who is this?" the voice demanded.  
  
Omi didn't think that Trowa was sounding very nice. He almost never talked at school, so it surprised him that they other boy was being so rude.  
  
"Omi. From school. This is Trowa, right?" he questioned, wanting to make sure that he had, in fact, dialed the correct number.  
  
There was a long, drawn out pause before Trowa said anything.  
  
"What do you want?" Trowa grumbled.  
  
"I...," Omi frowned, thinking that he could just hang up on Trowa. With one glance over at the hopeful eyes of his friend, he knew that he couldn't. "A friend of mine wanted to know if you'd go out on a date with him."  
  
Omi rose an eyebrow at Quatre as the blonde nearly fell off the bed at those words.  
  
"What friend?"  
  
"Quatre Winner. You're his lab partner, you know."  
  
"Yeah, um, okay. When does he want to go?" Trowa asked, in a more nicer voice than before.  
  
"Wait a minute," Omi replied, putting his hand over the phone. "He wants to know when you want to go."  
  
Quatre fought back a squeal. "Whenever."  
  
Omi rolled his eyes, turning his attention back to the phone. "He says anytime is fine."  
  
"Okay," Trowa muttered. "How about tomorrow night? I'll pick him up around seven-thirty."  
  
"That's good," Omi agreed, giving Trowa Quatre's address. He then hung up the phone.  
  
"Omgawd! Omgawd! He said yes! He said yes!!" the energetic blonde squealed, jumping up and down on his bed.  
  
"I'm glad you're happy," Omi said, as Quatre finally calmed down. "Trowa was really rude."  
  
"He's probably just tired," Quatre muttered, yawning. "We had a lot of tests today, it being the week for midterms, after all."  
  
"Yeah, I guess so. He just sounded different."  
  
"Everyone sounds different on the phone, Omi," Quatre said, snuggling down in his covers. "Are you going to spend the night? If not, then you have to leave. I'm tired."  
  
"You ask me to do all the work, so you can sleep?" Omi teased, glaring a bit. "You're a brat."  
  
"I know."  
  
"To answer your question, no, I can't stay. My parents may actually worry about me. Imagine that, huh?"  
  
Quatre frowned. "Don't be so pessimistic, Omi. Not everyone in the world is against you. I'm not."  
  
"I know that, Quat. I can't help but be pessimistic. It's just the way that I am. now, I really do have to go. I'm already an hour late. See ya tomorrow."  
  
"Bye, Omi," Quatre said from his place under the blanket.   
  
Omi left the Winner house that night, and walked directly to his house across the street. The servants bitched him out a bit: it's not like Omi really cared. He never gave a shit about what any of the people in the house he lived in thought.  
  
  
§ § § §   
  
  
"I'm actually going out on a date with him!" Quatre said in an excited voice. "Tonight!"  
  
Omi sighed. He just knew it was going to get worse when Quatre and Trowa would actually started dating. "Yes, dear. You are."  
  
"I'm so happy!"  
  
"Really? And to think I thought you were going into a massive depression," Omi muttered, rolling his eyes.  
  
"Be happy for me, dammit!" Quatre snapped. "I get to go out on a date!"  
  
"Joy. I think I hear a choir of angels singing," Omi said in a monotone.  
  
"What happened?" Quatre asked, knowing that something had to have happened at home. Omi was never this pessimistic or sarcastic.  
  
"The usual. Getting bitched at until midnight."  
  
"You went home at ten!"  
  
"I realize that, Quatre. They always bitch at me for two hours whenever I don't do things that way that I'm supposed to. I'm waiting for them to break the record and go for three."  
  
"That's ridiculous, Omi," Quatre said, frowning. "You shouldn't have to get yelled at for two hours by people who aren't even your parents."  
  
"They basically are my parents," Omi said, in a sad voice. "My real parents are never home, remember?"  
  
"Of course I remember. I'm just saying that maybe you could ask your parents to tell them to lay off a little. You need sleep for school, and you won't get it if you're pissed off at someone. I know how you are, Omi."  
  
"Yeah. How about we talk about something else, okay? This is getting a bit annoying."  
  
"Like what?"  
  
"Like Trowa perhaps," Omi whispered, as he looked in front of them a ways to where Trowa was standing.  
  
"It's not right for someone to be that sexy," Quatre said underneath his breath.  
  
"Should we go talk to him? Or do you not want to talk to your soon to be hubby?"  
  
Quatre blushed deeply and glared at Omi a little. "I suppose we could go talk to him."  
  
"Okay, then, let's go."  
  
Omi pulled the other boy along, as they walked over to where Trowa stood.  
  
"Hey." Omi said, smiling at Trowa and the rest of the "group" as he pushed Youji out of the way of his locker.  
  
"I knew that you had a thing for me, Omi," Youji teased. "But do you really have to be so violent about it?"  
  
While blushing, Omi glared at the taller boy. "According to you, everyone has a thing for you."  
  
"What can I say? I'm just a sexy man."  
  
Omi just ignored him, and turned his attention back to the group. He noticed that Quatre had taken his usual position: completely out of Trowa's range of sight, behind Duo and Heero. Once he gave a glare to the hidden boy, Quatre came out slowly.  
  
"Aren't you going to ask him where he's taking you?" Omi demanded in a whisper.  
  
"I will in lab. I promise."  
  
Omi nodded in agreement  
  
  
§ § § §   
  
  
"What's wrong, Quat?" Duo asked, as the blonde's head lie in his folded arms on the lunch table. "I know that the food isn't that great here, but you should at least eat."  
  
"Not hungry," Quatre's voice said, muffled from his position. A sob escaped his lips.  
  
"C'mon, Quatre," Duo said more urgently. "What the hell is wrong? You're crying." He added the last bit more quietly.  
  
"I'm fine," Quatre muttered.  
  
Duo frowned, but turned his attention back to his food. The other boy obviously didn't want to talk, so he wasn't going to force him to do so. Not only was Quatre upset, Trowa looked a bit perplexed. Trowa never really showed any emotion at school. It was an odd day.  
  
Not five minutes later, Omi showed up, thinking that the day was going to be great; however, when he noticed that Quatre wasn't sitting by Trowa, he realized that something was probably wrong.  
  
"Quatre?" Omi asked quietly, taking his seat at the end of the table beside the blonde.  
  
Quatre sniffed a couple more times, but looked up at Omi, still hiding most of his face. Omi frowned when he saw the tears falling out of Quatre's eyes.  
  
"What happened?"  
  
"I don't know," the sniffling blonde whispered. "Something went wrong though."  
  
"Do you want to talk about it now?"  
  
Quatre shook his head. "No. I think I'm going to see if I can go home after lunch. I don't feel all that well any way."  
  
Omi frowned again. "Are you sure?"  
  
Quatre nodded. "Yes, I might call you later, okay?"  
  
Omi nodded, and ate his lunch fretted over his friend's suddenly depressed state.  
  
*End of Chapter One*  
  
  
  
Ken: You didn't give me ANY speaking roles! *sniffle*   
  
Leaf-chan: I'm sorry, Ken. Only Omi, Quatre, and Duo had speaking roles anyway.  
  
Trowa: ....  
  
Leaf-chan: ....  
  
Ken: I want speaking parts!  
  
Leaf-chan: I promise you a main part in the next story I write, okay?  
  
Ken: *sniff* Okay...  
  
Hope you guys liked it! Please review!  
  
~Leaf  
  
(1) And a large gay population, I think, but I didn't notice that...really...*smile*  



End file.
